ack figures on the hill.
The boy looked from his mother's wrapper to the man's face, growing more
distinct now, out on the door-step, and the amused expression he saw
there his sore egotism attributed to a personal cause. So he promptly
slammed the door in the man's face.

There was an instant's pause out in the blackness, made denser now that
the candle's light from the cabin was cut off; then a short, nonplussed
laugh.

"Miles, old chap," the young man was saying to himself, as he turned
cautiously to jump from the stoop and mount the hill, "this is Bedlam
you've fallen into--this mad little mining-town ten thousand miles off
in a brand-new corner of the world, all hills and characters! Now, what
might be the sex of that animal you were talking to? And what in the
name of peace are these Madigans? Are they the ones you're look--Steps,
as I value my immortal soul!" he exclaimed, rubbing his shin where he
had struck against the wandering Madigan stairway. "It would not have
surprised me, now, if I had had to climb that hill on my hands and
knees, and stand on my head when I got to the door, to knock at it with
my heels!"

* * * * *

Miss Madigan's demeanor was beautiful to see. Just a bit--oh, the least
bit of I-told-you-so in her manner, but also a generous willingness to
postpone the acceptance of apologies due to one long misunderstood, and
to take for granted the family's obligation.

"The estate must be worth at least ten thousand a year," she confided in
her delighted perturbation to Frances, as she curled her hair. And Frank
looked up at her, soulful and uncomprehending, and a bit cross-eyed, for
the curl dangling down over her nose. "He'll marry Kate, of course--I
had no idea he was so young. He'll just be the savior of the whole
family. It's a providence,--Miles Madigan's dying when he did,--and
wasn't it fortunate that Nora sent my letter back?... You will be good
at the table, Frances, and show cousin Miles how nicely you can use your
fork?... He is practically a cousin.... Have you washed your hands?"

"Hm-mm," murmured Frank, mendaciously. And then, as Aunt Anne appeared
to doubt her word, "Just you ask God if I haven't," she suggested
solemnly, carefully putting her hands behind her.

But Miss Madigan had no time to put questions to so distant an
authority. She had Wong to placate--Wong with his wash-day face on,
grim, ill-tempered, hurried, defying the world to put e